In This Life
by Court
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, 2006. Patrick has a surprise or two in store for Robin. fluff alert ShortComplete.


**In This Life**

**Author: **Court

**Rated:** PG-13

**Summary: **It's New Year's Eve, 2006. Patrick has a surprise or two in store for Robin. (fluff alert)

* * *

Delicate flakes of white swirl in the chilly air of the night, each crystal unique in its form, yet in the end merging as one, frosting the streets of the city until it's a real life version of a shaken snow globe. The wind hisses, stirring the tiny beads into a thin cloud, breathing zest into the atmosphere on the brink of a celebration. The year 2007 is an invisible shadow, stalking the citizens of Port Charles that fancy new beginnings, second chances and fulfillment of unanswered prayers, a few short hours away from revealing itself. 

Blinded by the scarf concealing her eyes, Robin Scorpio is oblivious to the beauty surrounding her. Resting high in the arms of her lover, his coat and her own create a thick layer, shielding her short slip of a dress from view and her body from the cold. Having been literally swept off her feet, she was twinkling like the bright Christmas lights still strung along the roofs and pathways of the neighborhood.

"Can't I just have a little clue?" Robin pouts, planting a sweet kiss on his jaw in hopes of getting her way.

"No way!" Patrick Drake chuckles, shaking his head at her. "Have a little patience would you? We're almost there," he assures her.

"Almost _where_?" she giggles, this time pressing her lips to his earlobe.

"You'd better stop that or -"

"Or _what_?"

"Or I'll drop your adorable little butt in the snow!" he vows, purposely sliding the arm supporting her weight enough to make her jump and cling onto him.

Squealing, Robin slaps him on the shoulder in a joyous moment of mild fear and irritation. "Don't you dare!"

In retaliation of her attack, Patrick moves his arm again. "Your toes are going to be as red as Rudolph's nose if you keep it up, Scorpio!"

Instead of hitting him again as he suspected she would, Robin bursts out laughing. "As red as what?"

"Rudolph's nose," he repeats in the most serious tone he can muster, playfully bending one of her exposed toes.

"Ouch! I'll get you for that!"

"I look forward to it," he replies, huskily, his feet slowly coming to a halt upon discovery of a curvy, cobblestone walkway.

Wordlessly settling her down on it, he adjusts her at an appropriate angle, then unties the knot of her blindfold. The small piece of black material falls away, and Robin rubs her eyes into focus. From a close place behind her, she can feel Patrick's unwavering gaze on her face, anxiously awaiting her reaction.

Taking a small moment to form words that could accurately describe the real life painting before her, Robin smiles in wide eyed awe. "It's beautiful."

"So, you like it, then?"

"Like it!" Robin whirls around, looking at him in disbelief. "It's a Thomas Kinkade! It's like a fantasy, Patrick!"

Patrick smiles at her reference to the famous artist, reveling in her bliss, never taking his eyes off of her. The house seemed to cast a spell on her, bewitching her in all its mystery and drawing her closer to it. What appeared to him a quaint, cozy little cottage had beckoned her and captured her full attention.

With a mixed, yet even foundation of brick and smooth stone, the small structure stands in a clearing of the woods, a comfortable distance away from its neighbors. The path swells up and falls into short steps, leading to the entrance upheld in an arched, dark blue door. A magnificent bay window is the heart of it, pouring out a warm glow that fills the walls within, thrusting out all the secrets that remain sheltered inside.

To Robin, it looked like a house that had been lived in for decades. Not by appearances, but by the life that radiated from it. An old soul that would make anyone it touched feel at home.

"Can we go inside?" she finally speaks, belatedly realizing that her hand was in his and his eyes were still on her.

"Of course," he chuckles, taking the lead and pulling her up the steps. Removing a key from his pocket, he fiddles with the lock and pushes the door open. But when Robin hesitates, he stops short of entering. "What's wrong?"

"Who's house is this?"

"No one's right now," he says, nudging her along. "Come on. I'll tell you about it once we're inside and settled."

"Okay," she agrees, following him, still permitting curiosity to override her previous enthrallment.

Patrick senses her distress, and as soon as they are standing inside, the door secured behind them, he explains. "It's new, and the realtors are allowing an open house, hoping to get a sale."

"Why would a house like this need one? It can't be hard to sale."

"It has to do with the price."

"And since when do open houses take place at this hour?"

"They don't," he smirks, noting how alluring she looked with her eyebrows stubbornly arched in inquiry. "Which is why I had to give them something that would convince them to let us stay here tonight."

"AH, I see," she nods, biting her bottom lip. "And exactly how much flirting was involved?"

Smirking at her accusation, he mocks her by matching her stance, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, as attractive a man as Mr. Fuller might be, I don't think I'd stoop to flirting with a guy to get something I want."

Bubbling over with laughter, Robin moves over to him, twining her arms around his neck. "Even for me?"

Uncrossing his arms, Patrick eases them around her, his lips and eyes softening dangerously. "Well, maybe for you…"

"Really?" she whispers, melting against him.

"Really," he nods slightly, his face hovering before hers.

Robin's eyes close and her lips lightly pucker in a silent invitation for his. But after a moment, after feeling only the heat of his breath, she reopens them. Before she can ask her question, he gives her one of his own.

"You're not asking me, are you?"

Collapsing against him, her muscles turning to jelly amidst her mirth, the harsh sigh she unleashes is a declaration of her contentment. The familiar tug of his fingers on her chin forces her to break contact with the strong wall of his chest, and this time, he does kiss her.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Robin and Patrick return to the living room, hand in hand. Using one of the many candles placed throughout the wooden floor of the living room, he had given her a tour of the house, which was empty of any furnishings besides the large mattress, ice bucket and stereo. 

"So, how did you get this idea anyway? And how did you even find this house? I know I was blindfolded, but from what I did see, it looks pretty well hidden."

"I was trying to think of some way to spend New Year's Eve with you that didn't include other people or distractions of any kind," Patrick tells her, swinging their arms slowly between them. "Last year was a bust, because you were doing your damnedest to avoid me," he reminds her, causing them both to smile. "We're around so many people on a daily basis and don't get nearly enough alone time -"

"We sleep together every night," Robin objects, noting their 'your place or mine' conversation each night after their shifts.

"Yeah, and when we get to each other's places, people call or come knocking. I can't count the number of times I had you halfway undressed and some idiot relative or friend interrupted us," he complains, irritated.

"Oh, I get it! You brought me here to seduce me," Robin teases, observing the scene in the living room as if for the first time. "Mattress, blankets, candles, music, alcohol…"

"Is it working?" Patrick asks, slyly.

"Doesn't it always?"

Pulling her hand free of Patrick's, Robin curves both of them over his shoulders, easing them daintily down his chest. Rising up on her toes, she meets him in the middle, where they exchange a kiss laced with passion, and colored with all the love and desire they feel for one another. It was shattering, to be taken over so completely with a kiss, a touch, or a look. But it wasn't foreign to them either, for together they became tangled in a thrilling web of emotions. And neither one had ever experienced anything quite like it.

Robin can't stop the moan that escapes her lips when they at last come apart. For a moment, they say nothing, their breaths mingling and struggling as one. Shifting her heels back to the ground, she releases her hold on him and licks her lips.

"So, how did you find this place, again?"

Stunned not by the question in particular, but by the timing of it, his mouth falls open. "Oh my God, I'm losing my touch, aren't I?"

"Huh?"

"I used to take away your ability to think at all, let alone ask a question."

"Don't be silly," Robin insists, her thumb fumbling with his bottom lip. "You just really surprised me here. I'd like to know how you pulled it off."

"I've surprised you before. On your birthday."

"Uh," Robin giggles, growing a little flustered on the wake of her confession. "I kind of knew about that."

"You _what_!"

"I knew, okay? I overheard Liz and Emily talking about it, and I didn't want to tell you, because I figured you wouldn't take it well. Or your ego wouldn't anyway."

"You were right about that one," he admits, shaking his head. "And when we go back to work - those two are going to hear about this!"

"Oh, please," she rolls her eyes. "That was months ago, and I loved the party just the same. It was wonderful and I'll never forget it."

"That doesn't matter -"

"Are you going to answer my question or not?"

"What was it again?"

"Wow. Losing your touch and your memory all on the same night. Not good."

"That's it!" Patrick avows, lunging for Robin.

Shrieking, Robin ducks away, taking off hurriedly down the hall. Their laughter echoes off the walls of the house, the commotion ending at the surrender of the one of lesser strength.

"Stop, please," Patrick begs, unable to imprison Robin's wrist as she continues to attack his most sensitive spot, just behind his knees.

"Why should I? You started this!"

"I started it? You're the one that said -"

"Well, you're the one that forgot the -"

"Well, maybe I'll answer it if you'll stop that!"

"No way! This is too much fun!"

In fact, Robin figured it was probably the most fun she'd had in her entire life. Because it never stopped. Patrick had given her back her life. And she'd never felt more free or alive than she did at this very moment.

* * *

"So, you read about it in the paper?" 

"Yeah. I came over on my lunch break last Thursday. Mr. Fuller gave me a tour, I asked him about it, and he said no. I raised my price, and he still said no. But then, _Mrs._ Fuller came on by and saw reason to -"

"So, there _was_ flirting involved," Robin gasps, hitting him on the shoulder from her place beside him.

Rolling onto his side on the mattress, Patrick leans up on an elbow and looks down at her. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to!"

"Robin, I was joking," he admits, receiving another hit in response.

"Unbelievable!"

"Relax," he grumbles, nibbling on her lips. "Mrs. Fuller never showed up. I gave him an offer he couldn't refuse."

"Mmm," Robin sighs as he samples her lips, thoughts of any further argument vanishing from her mind. "It is very romantic…"

"I was hoping you'd say that," Patrick mumbles, his words going into her mouth. "Mmm…you know, midnight isn't for a couple of hours…"

"What ever will we do with our time?"

"I don't know," he deepens the kiss, shifting his body on top of hers. "I'm sure we can think of something…"

"Dance," she whispers in between kisses.

"Hmm?"

Turning her head on the pillow, she evades his touch. "I want to dance with you."

"Later," he bids, suckling his way down her neck.

"Patrick," she laments, tugging at his hair. "We both know that once you get me out of this dress, you're not going to let me get back in it. And I'm not inclined to dancing around naked."

"I am!" he chuckles, peppering her collarbone with tiny kisses.

"You are such a pervert," she giggles. "Come on! Pleeeeeeaase?"

"Alright, alright," he huffs, dragging himself away from her, ever so reluctantly. "You win."

Propping herself up on her forearms, Robin sits up, watching him with a satisfied smile as he rolls off the makeshift bed and takes the few steps over to the stereo. Taking in his attire, a black turtleneck sweater and jeans, she looks down at herself in dismay. "I wish you would have told me what to wear."

Glancing back at her, he grins. "Trust me, you did more than fine on your own."

"I'm overdressed!"

Shaking his head, he turns the tuner on the radio. "No you're not."

Giving herself another once over, Robin pushes herself until her legs are dangling over the edge of the mattress and her strappy stilettos are on the floor. "I'm dressed for a party."

"Who says this isn't a party?"

"You know what I mean."

Holding off his answer, Patrick suddenly stops, listens and swings around. Hips swaying, feet tapping, he slides over to her in what he believes to be a sexy manner. And just when Robin thinks she can't be more amused, he starts to hum along.

Bending down, Patrick extends his hand for hers. Pulling Robin up to him, the plush silk of her cherry red dress brushes against him, riding slightly up her thighs as he lifts her off her feet and presses her body to his. Gracefully moving, the only sounds that can be heard are that of Al Green, the crackling fireplace and their hearts, racing in a frantic beat that make it seem almost impossible to breathe.

For all they know, they are floating on some cloud puffed along the sky, their moment timeless, mystical to the world outside of each other's arms. Songs end, melodies change and still they fade into each one, flawlessly, smoothly. The rich, deep baritone of his voice fills her ear, echoing the lyrics when compelled, and whispering endearments that make her weak at the knees. When he opts to vocalize his opinion of her dress, they buckle and she knows, had he not been there to keep her grounded, she would have fallen.

**_For all I've been blessed with in this life  
There was an emptiness in me  
I was imprisoned by the power of gold  
With one honest touch you set me free_**

The instant their mouths touch, a change occurs and the atmosphere explodes, a shiver rippling the blood in their veins, igniting a blast of heat within the vicinity of their embrace. Patrick's mouth brands her, giving Robin everything he has in him.

**_Let the world stop turnin'  
Let the sun stop burnin'  
Let them tell me love's not worth going through  
If it all falls apart  
I will know deep in my heart  
The only dream that mattered had come true  
In this life, I was loved by you_**

Responding with a lusty moan, Robin curls her arms around Patrick's neck, trembling in the rush that always consumes her upon feeling his mouth and hands touching her in such a possessive manner. It was sweet and electrifying all at the same time. The poignancy of such moments make her ache inside, and she feels as if she could weep from the powerfulness and perfection of it all.

**_For every mountain I have climbed  
Every raging river crossed  
You were the treasure that I'd longed to find  
Without your love I would be lost_**

Robin's own tongue slides against his, a slow, provocative meeting that ends with pained gasps from them both, only to begin again seconds later. Skilled fingers slide her zipper down, and the sparkling spaghetti straps slip and catch around her elbows. Tearing her mouth free, she grabs the hem of his sweater, urging it up, removing it with his assistance.

**_Let the world stop turnin'  
Let the sun stop burnin'  
Let them tell me love's not worth going through  
If it all falls apart  
I will know deep in my heart  
The only dream that mattered had come true  
In this life, I was loved by you_**

Desperately yanking her back to him, he gives her dress a necessary tug, causing it to swish around her ankles, where she steps out of it. Fingers threaded in his hair, Robin sighs as Patrick bends down, cups the backs of her knees and urges her up and against him, holding her tightly.

The sheets feel cool against Robin's back as Patrick presses her lightly into the bedding, bracing himself above her. Peering enduringly into her eyes, he brings her hand to his lips, kissing each fingertip tenderly, cherishingly. "I love you." 

Closing her eyes against his touch briefly, Robin's smile stirs them, making them glitter as they find his in the crimson firelight. "I love you, too."

**_In this life, I was loved by you_**

* * *

_Coconut_, Patrick thinks, wrapping a lock of Robin's long, wavy, chestnut tresses around his fingers. That's what her hair smelled of. Coconut and vanilla. She'd changed shampoo again, he decided. Last month, it was strawberry. Before that, almond… 

Inwardly, he chuckles at his line of thinking. Only a man in love could notice such a thing, or care to remember it. Before her, he never did. That's how he knew. The simplicity of watching her sleep beside him and marveling at all the tiny things that made her such an enchanting creature to him was better than almost anything. Robin was the dream that came true that he'd never dared to comprehend. Sometimes, he just looks at her and wonders how he ever got so lucky. How could an angel like her belong to the likes of him?

But she did, he assures himself, brushing her hair aside and tracing the exposed area of her spine with his finger. Lying on her stomach, the sheet covering only the lower half of her body, the creamy satin of her skin welcomes his lips and hands as they draw imaginary designs throughout their journey.

"Robin," he calls out in a voice just above a whisper. "Robin, baby, wake up…"

The arm crooked above her head moves and slowly, she comes to. But like each morning, the night proves no different, and she sighs, her body stilling once again in defiance. Shaking his head at her, he smirks, deciding to change tactics.

Cradling her face in his hands, he kisses her fully on the mouth, teasing her into responding. "Mmm…is it midnight yet?" she croaks, her eyes half open.

"Not for another twenty minutes or so," he tells her, dragging his lips across her cheek. In the afterglow of their lovemaking, she was divine. "Have you any idea how amazing you are?"

"What?" she laughs, crinkling her nose as he nuzzles it.

"You heard me," he says, taking her mouth in his own. "I can't get enough of you…"

"Is that why you woke me up?" Robin blushes, misinterpreting his meaning for the usual one.

"No," he smiles, pulling his face away from hers. "I thought we'd have some champagne and listen to the countdown on the radio. They have the audio from Dick Clark's show on AM."

"That sounds nice," she purrs.

"Good."

With a kiss to her forehead, Patrick gets up and finds the appropriate station, then bends down to remove the contents of a bag that wasn't there before Robin fell asleep.

"What's in there?" she asks, sitting up and tucking the sheet under her arms.

"Not much," he breezes, not looking up. "Just some glasses and a couple of hats."

"Hats?"

In answer, Patrick plunks a bright green cardboard top hat on his head. When he turns around, the number _2006_ boldly stands out in thick silver across the front of it.

"I seriously hope you don't expect me to wear one of those things," she laughs.

"You bet your hot ass I do."

"I don't think so."

"If I wear one, you have to wear one."

"Then, maybe you shouldn't."

"You're no fun."

"Excuse me!"

"You're no fun," he repeats, picking up the second hat.

"It's a HAT!"

"Exactly, so, what's the big deal?" Robin glares at Patrick as he comes over to her and unceremoniously drops a matching pink hat on her head. "Grump." Thumping the rim, he cracks, "Cute, though."

"No," Robin amends, reaching for her pillow. "_This_ is cute."

When it connects with his behind, Patrick has to exert a great amount of effort not to jump back in the bed with her and have the mother of all pillow fights. Alas, he's on a tight schedule. Midnight was just around the corner.

"Now, who's no fun?" she smarts off.

"Later," he assures her, winking at her before returning to his previous task. "Guess what I got at the liquor store?"

Robin shrugs. "You already said, champagne."

"No, something else," he says, holding up one of their glasses. "See it?"

"Ooooh, the little stem charm. I've seen those before."

"Yeah, I never thought to get them before, but they were up front and I tossed them in. The pack had some '07's, confetti and balloons."

"You really are in a festive mood, aren't you?"

"Not normally," he says, opening the bottle. "But this year, I have a good reason to be."

"What reason is that?"

Pausing in filling their glasses, he looks at her meaningfully. "You."

Robin's heart does a flip flop at the single word. It seemed like yesterday that he was the guy she never wanted to see and most wanted to see all at once. From day one, he had gotten under her skin, even though she hated to admit it. All the others had backed away and let her be, but not her Patrick. She had thought it was all a big game to him, and that once he got what he wanted he'd lose interest. But she had been wrong.

The time of her illness revealed a side of him she had chosen to believe didn't exist. And he opened her heart to life and love when she never thought anyone ever could again. Because of this man, she looked at tomorrow as a blessing. The past was locked away, out of sight and mind, all the pain a distant memory.

Robin had once told him that he saved her. Smiling, she recalls how he'd caressed her cheek and instead of making a typical arrogant comeback, had proclaimed that she saved his, too.

Shaking off the memories, she clears her head. "So, I guess I should get dressed."

"You don't have to do that on my account," he teases, chuckling as she hops around awkwardly, securing the sheet around her ever so modestly.

"Ha ha ha," she rolls her eyes, searching for her clothes. "Where's my stuff?"

"Your dress is over here," Patrick indicates the spot where they danced before. "And the other stuff is probably…tangled…"

Robin's eyes move to the mattress, and she nods. "Yeah…"

Before she can begin her hunt, Patrick carries the glasses over to her and hands her one. "A toast?"

"Okay," she agrees. "To what?"

"The future," Patrick suggests.

"The future," Robin beams, clinking her glass to his.

Raising it to her lips, the warm liquid finds the middle of her mouth. Before it can find her throat, curiosity leads her eyes to the charm encircling the stem. But there was no charm. Instead of a gold or silver letter or shape, the wire was placed through the biggest diamond ring she'd ever seen.

Overwhelmed with shock, joy, horror and a million different other emotions, Robin is helpless to prevent the champagne from spewing into the air between herself and Patrick in a most unladylike fashion. "Oh my God!"

Wiping at the small amount that managed to make contact with his forehead, Patrick chuckles. "Okay, I'm not sure that's the reaction I was hoping for -"

"Oh my God!" Robin's hands start to shake and before she can drop it, Patrick takes the glass from her.

"Are you really that surprised?"

Hands covering her mouth, she swallows. "Yes."

"Why?" Patrick looks baffled. "You know that I love you. And I know that you love me."

"Patrick, this is serious," she speaks, tears swimming in her eyes. "You don't know what you're doing."

"I don't know what I'm doing?" he asks, flabbergasted.

"No, you don't. We're talking about marriage here. Forever. However long forever is."

"Jesus Christ, Robin," he swears, starting to get angry. "Don't tell me you're still thinking like that. I thought we'd got past it a long time ago."

Gasping, she starts tearing at the bedding, in search of her undergarments. "This is not," she hisses, fumbling with the blanket at the end of the mattress, "a conversation I'm going to have wearing nothing but a sheet."

"What difference does it make? And what the hell is there to talk about in the first place? All it takes is a word, Robin. One word. Yes."

"I don't seem to recall being asked a question," Robin throws back, doing her best to dress within the confinement of the sheet.

"Well, you didn't exactly let me -"

"I don't want you to!"

"YES, you do!"

"Even if I did, it wouldn't matter. I know what's right."

"Oh, so, it's right to date someone for almost a year, tell them you love them, make love to them every night and then one day tell them to back off!"

"Please, don't do this," Robin pleads, pulling her dress over her head and rezipping it.

"I'm not doing anything, Robin," Patrick argues, setting the glasses down and taking her by the arm. "Look at me, Robin." When she refuses to do so, he takes her chin between his fingers and forces her to. "Look at me."

"Patrick, please…" she cries, tears staining her cheeks.

"Please, what? Stop loving you? Well, I'm sorry. I can't do that. I fought too damned hard to get you in the first place. I'm never letting you go. Never."

"It would be selfish of me to -"

"No, saying 'no' to me is being selfish, Robin," Patrick interrupts. "It's not just about you anymore. It hasn't been for quite a while now. It's you and me. Together. Against the world. Remember?"

All Robin can do is nod, as she thinks back on that fateful day in the hospital, when he gave her a reason to hope. The day he told her how he felt about her. Then and there, at her bedside, the chase ended.

"We're supposed to be together, baby," Patrick tells her, rubbing his thumbs against her cheeks. "And I would have never gotten involved with you if I wasn't in for the long haul. This day was bound to come. I just needed the right time. The right moment."

"But Patrick, don't you see what you're giving up?"

"If we're talking about children, I think we both know the answer to that one. We're both doctors, and we both know that it's possible for us to conceive."

"It's too risky," she objects.

"It's a discussion we can have at a later time. But Robin, whatever we decide, it'll be together. And there's always adoption. There's always another option."

"But -"

"Look, just stop thinking so much, okay? You drive me nuts when you do that, and it's not good, because I'm already so far gone that half the time I can't think straight when I'm around you. Robin, you fill me up inside. I was nothing when I met you. Just like you, I was closed off. But you changed me. And you make me want to be better. I want to take care of you. Always."

The tears come heavier and faster and Robin tastes their saltiness as she bites her bottom lip in thought. "I want you to, I do…"

"So, just say the word, and I will," he smiles, knowing that he's getting through to her.

"You never asked me," she smiles back, and then he knew; he had her.

"Come with me," he softly orders, taking her hand and leading her to the center of the living room.

Instead of getting on one knee as she suspected he might do, he moves to stand behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. "Right here," he begins, "right here is where I decided that I was going to marry you."

"But I thought you said -"

"Yes, I said that it was a foregone conclusion, but I still didn't know when I was going to ask. But that day, when I came to this house, and stood in this room, I knew."

"How?" she asks, leaning into him.

"The day I saw that ad in the paper, something happened. It was strange. Like something was telling me that I needed to see it. Part of it was the New Year's thing, but it was something more. And when I saw it, I knew why."

Turning in his arms, she whispers, "Why?"

"Because I saw you. I knew that you would never get into a big house or a fancy apartment. I mean, you'd live in one, but you wouldn't be happy. But the look of it, the feel of it…I don't know. It just fit," he states simply. "And when I came inside, I stood here…and I had this vision. It was of you and me. After a long day at work, just lying together on the couch…my head in your lap…watching one of those sappy old movies you love so much. And just when I'm about to distract you, a little version of you runs into the room. 'Go back to bed', I want to tell her. But I don't. I just smile and pull her right up there with us. Both of you fall asleep soon after…and I just look at you. And it's the most phenomenal feeling…because I know that nothing could ever compare to having you with me everyday, for the rest of my life."

Taking a deep breath, he kisses her hand. "Robin, I'm no good at this. I've never done anything like this before. I've never loved anyone else before. But what you are to me is so beyond anything I could have ever imagined. I never wanted to fall in love. But I did. So hard that I would have given up my own life if it meant saving yours all those months ago. And I still would.

I'm not going to promise that I won't make mistakes, or that I won't disappoint you along the way. But I swear to you, Robin, I will love you and cherish you and make you so happy that whatever bad stuff comes, it won't matter. We'll face it the only way I know how to anymore - together.

And if we never have kids, I'll be fine with that. Because I'll still have you. And that's all that matters to me. You have to believe that. You have to. Because those doubts will keep you away from me. And I can't survive without you. I can't."

Shaking her head, she chokes on a sob. "I can't either…"

"You won't have to," he promises, kissing her where he no longer has the power not to, tears of fear in his own eyes. "We can grow old together in this house, Robin. Love and fight…live and learn together."

Perhaps, had she not been reduced to an emotional basket case, she would have figured it out already. "In…this house?"

"Yeah," he grins. "That offer that Mr. Fuller couldn't refuse? I bought it. It's ours. If you'll say yes, that is."

Giggling, she grazes his cheek with her knuckles. "You still haven't asked me."

"Well, you're just all about the details, aren't you?"

With that, he walks over to the stereo and picks up her glass that's resting beside it. After successfully removing the three carat, emerald cut diamond with a platinum setting from the stem, he sets the glass back down and positions himself on one knee before her. "Robin Scorpio, will you be my wife?"

Deciding to make him sweat a little longer, Robin taps her finger against her chin. "Hmmmm…"

"Look, Scorpio. Either say yes, or I'm going to toss you over my shoulder, carry you back to bed and convince you there."

"Don't you threaten me, Patrick Drake," Robin warns, putting her hands on her hips.

"I'm not kidding! Say 'yes' or else!"

"We'll see about - AHHH!" Robin screams as he springs from his spot on the floor and does exactly as he said he would.

Dangling from his shoulder, she begins a vehement chant of _yes_, his mouth acting as a silencer once he gets them settled. And when at last the hilarity dissolves and the air becomes silent, he slips the ring onto her finger. Lying on their sides facing one another, they listen as the countdown to the new year goes from ten to one. Lips mesh, loving benevolently in a darling moment of serene felicity. Snuggling close, drifting away to a place where they alone exist, their eyes mirror shared reveries and aspirations. It was destiny. Always. Forever. Together.

**THE END**


End file.
